


Insomnia

by SoDoRoses (FairyChess)



Series: LAOFT Extras [79]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, M/M, Mostly fluff anyway, brief making out, logans love language is acts of service and its absolutely adorable t b h
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-13 06:01:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21239339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FairyChess/pseuds/SoDoRoses
Summary: 3 times Logan tried to get Virgil to sleep,+1 time he succeeded.





	Insomnia

**Author's Note:**

> for the prompt:
> 
> "I don’t suppose there’s any way I could beg for a little fic of Logan stalking the “Refusing to sleep Virgil” and then dragging him to bed and squishing him till he sleeps? First it sounds adorable, and second because it sounds so much like some sort of Wild Animal Documentary that it would be so funny." (from an anon on tumblr)
> 
> The song is “I Love You Always Forever” by Donna Lewis, though i was admittedly listening to the Mateo Oxley cover
> 
> many thanks to my friends [@trivia-goddess](trivia-goddess.tumblr.com) for beta-reading! you are objectively the best

_Warm Beverages_

* * *

Virgil just barely wrinkled his nose when Logan me into the living room with two steaming mugs in hand, but Logan cut him off before he could protest.

“It is not tea,” he said, “It’s apple cider. From the fruit stand you like,”

“Oh,” said Virgil, taking the mug, “I appreciate it,”

He took a small sip, blinking in astonishment.

“It’s… different, than usual,”

“Yes, well…”

Logan sat next to him on the couch, shuffling awkwardly.

“Ms. Gage showed me how to – add spices, um. Cinnamon and clove, mostly,”

“Logan, did you make me a potion?” said Virgil, amused.

“No, of course not,” said Logan, frowning, “I would not attempt magic on you without your express permission,”

Logan had very _deliberately_ not done any magic on the spices before he’d added them. Since plants, even dead ones, sometimes reacted to his presence in increasingly bizarre ways, he had paid extra attention while adding them to the kettle, in case they developed any odd properties. He had no intention of _enchanting_ his husband to sleep.

But there was nothing inherently magical about a warm beverage, and the bags under Virgil’s eyes were beginning to worry Logan deeply.

It had been different when they weren’t living together – Patton must have been covering for him somehow, so Logan and Roman wouldn’t worry. Or perhaps he hadn’t noticed; Logan certainly couldn’t imagine Patton hiding any bout of insomnia _this_ bad.

And then Logan had usually been at school, and must have coincidentally missed most of the worst episodes. He’d _known_ of course, that Virgil sometimes found it difficult to willingly sleep, but this was… far, far worse than Logan would have guessed.

Logan couldn’t be sure, but Virgil had still been awake when Logan rose every day this week, his eyes luminescent purple in the dark of their bedroom and open and watching all of them when Logan had fallen asleep. Virgil changed clothes, and he laid in bed with them, but if Logan had to hazard a guess, it had been at least ten days since Virgil had gotten any rest outside of particularly long blinks.

He wasn’t human – Virgil wouldn’t die, or get sick from this.

But he was _suffering_, and Logan was _not _going to tolerate it.

Virgil’s face had softened, and he set the mug on the coffee table and stretched toward Logan, laying several chaste kisses across the side of his face.

“Thank you,” he said softly.

“You are very welcome,”

Virgil retrieved his mug, and leaned firmly against Logan’s shoulder. They sat in companionable silence, and Logan barely noticed when his head dipped to lay on Virgil’s shoulder.

He definitely didn’t notice when Virgil plucked the tipping mug out of Logan’s hand, or when he drifted off for an hour and, according to Virgil, experienced some kind of dream that made him mumble in his sleep, complete with, quote “adorable nose wrinkles.”

He did notice when he woke up, and looked into the fond and still clearly _exhausted_ face of his husband.

Attempt one: failed.

* * *

_Lullabies_

* * *

Logan was no _singer_, that was for certain. It made him feel awkward and exposed, and while he knew logically that he and Thomas shared nearly identical voices, and therefore any talent Thomas possessed in singing Logan must at least also be _capable_ of, it was difficult not to compare his brother’s enthusiasm with Logan’s tendency toward rather… mechanical delivery.

But desperate times called for desperate measures.

Patton would certainly be more suited towards this, but Logan intended to save even asking Patton to try that as an absolute last resort. He was concerned it might – in the same way as unintentionally enchanted cinnamon sticks – fall under the heading of magically inducing sleep, and he was nearly positive Patton would agree.

And Roman’s voice was lovely, but his voice tended towards an excess of _volume_ – it was suited to ballads and romantic serenades, not really towards anything soothing.

But of course, the issue now became that Logan had to work up the nerve to actually _do any singing._

“Are you alright?” Virgil asked softly, pressing a soft kiss to Logan’s forehead.

Logan hesitated.

“L?”

“I would… like to do something for you,” Logan muttered, “But I find myself… somewhat nervous,”

Virgil frowned a little. They were both lying on their sides, on a blanket spread out on the grass of the garden, and Virgil reached up to fiddle with a few strands of Logan’s hair.

“It’s just me,” said Virgil, “You never have to be nervous around me,”

Logan smiled against his chest.

“So… so, uh, the words go-”

Virgil had gone very still, and Logan tried to sound as even-toned and soothing as possible.

“_Feels like I’m standing in a timeless dream, of light mists of pale amber rose…”_

Virgil remained still, and Logan decided to take that as both an indication to continue and, hopefully, a sign that this harebrained scheme may be working.

“_…Feels like I’m lost in a deep cloud of heavenly scent…”_

Logan couldn’t quite bring himself to look up through the first verse and chorus. But during the second, Virgil had been still so long that Logan wondered if it might have worked, so he glanced up at his husband’s face.

And immediately choked on the lyrics and ceased singing.

Virgil wasn’t asleep – his eyes were a little wider than normal, actually, and he actually seemed more awake than he had in days. He looked astonished.

“I… um-”

“_Logan,_” Virgil breathed.

“I- yes?” Logan squeaked.

Virgil didn’t give a verbal response, letting out a stunned laugh.

“Beautiful,” he murmured.

Logan cleared his throat.

“I- well, thank you, but I don’t think it is… quite that impressive, really-”

“It was lovely,” said Virgil, a little breathless, “Just… fuck, Logan, you have to sing with Patton,”

“What?” said Logan, strangled, “I cou- you can’t possibly mean to- I would sound absolutely absurd in comparison,”

“You’ve heard Roman and Patton sing,” said Virgil, his surprise giving way to slight amusement, “Does Roman sound ‘absurd?’”

Logan felt his face burn. No, Roman didn’t- in fact, Patton’s voice had a tendency to make Roman’s sound even _better,_ like he was lifting Roman’s natural talent up along with his own magic. They didn’t actually sing together all that often – or at least, never for very long, because it usually ended in Logan or Virgil, or both of them, grabbing one them mid-note and kissing them senseless.

“I rest my case,” Virgil teased, kissing Logan’s cheek. He looked a little pink in the face. “In the meantime, though, um-”

He smiled sheepishly.

“Could you-?”

Logan stared at him, uncomprehending for a moment.

“Oh,” he said, “You mean to- continue?”

Virgil nodded enthusiastically.

Virgil didn’t look even remotely like he might sleep, but-

But-

“Of course,” said Logan softly, “The next lines are… _‘As we lay there under blue sky, with pure white stars…_”

Attempt two… a failure, but..

Only technically.

* * *

_Lavender_

* * *

Logan didn’t actually have very high hopes for this attempt. _Flowers_ were not Virgil’s… ‘thing,’ except in cases where they were flowers relating to Logan.

But this had come up _repeatedly_ in his attempts to research the predicament – that the scent of lavender was soothing wasn’t really arguable, but Logan just wasn’t sure if it would apply to Virgil.

He was not, however, going to dismiss a potential solution out of something as abstract as doubt. And, frankly, anything that gave him an opportunity for prolonged contact with his husband was appealing just on its own.

Virgil squinted slightly when Logan flipped the light on, and Logan immediately corrected the action. Virgil gave him a sheepish smile.

“Does your head hurt?” Logan asked gently.

Virgil grimaced.

“… Maybe a little,” he admitted.

Logan gave him a reassuring smile.

“May I try something?”

Virgil shrugged, glancing away.

“Might as well,”

Logan offered his hand, leading Virgil from the kitchen to the bedroom and gesturing for Virgil to sit on the bed.

Virgil did so while Logan retrieved the bottle he’d purchased at the farmer’s market the other day, bringing it with him to the bed and gently guiding Virgil to lay with his head in Logan’s lap.

Logan frowned at the bottle, not sure how much he really ought to be using. He decided to err on the side of caution, as he could always use more later.

He’d deliberately selected a more diluted oil – the bottle indicated it as almond and lavender – because an overwhelming smell was likely to make the situation worse. He rubbed some on his fingers, and then placed them on the sides of Virgil’s head, rubbing small circles in his temples.

Virgil sighed.

“Better?”

“Yeah, a little,” said Virgil softly, “Thank you, love,”

Logan just leaned down to kiss his forehead. Virgil scrunched his face up with a smile.

Logan continued, and Virgil began to make quiet content noises that made Logan’s chest tremble slightly with fondness. Even if this didn’t help Virgil get to sleep, Logan was almost certainly going to do this frequently.

Logan swiped his thumb near Virgil’s hairline, and Virgil let out a low, drawn-out groan.

And then, in a deeply embarrassing turn of events, Logan felt a wave of warmth across his palms, and the room no longer smelled like lavender at all.

Virgil, who had closed his eyes some minutes before, opened them and looked up at Logan with a teasing smile.

“So-”

“Don’t,” said Logan, his face burning.

“Oh, I think I will, actually,” Virgil purred, sitting up and turning so their faces were close and Logan’s breath hitched.

“_So,”_ he repeated, kissing Logan’s jaw slowly.

“Is there a reason-”

Another kiss.

“That this oil-”

Pressing his lips to Logan’s neck, Virgil spoke the next words directly against Logan’s skin.

“… Now smells like jasmine?” he said coyly.

“You are picking on me,” said Logan breathlessly.

“You make it so easy,” Virgil murmured, nipping gently at the skin under his mouth.

Virgil didn’t seem to care about Logan’s slippery fingers in his hair, as he didn’t put up even a token resistance when Logan fell back and pulled Virgil on top of him.

He wondered if he might be able to locate any actual jasmine scented oil.

Attempt three: success of an unintended variety.

* * *

+1

* * *

When Logan entered the living room and saw Virgil laying on his back on the couch, for a moment he was nearly overcome with relief.

But when he came closer, and saw that Virgil’s eyes were open and vacantly staring at the ceiling, the bags under his eyes so intense it made Logan’s chest ache with sympathy, the relief evaporated instantly.

“I’m sorry,” said Virgil. Logan startled.

“… What on earth for?” said Logan, incredulous. He crossed the room and squeezed onto the small gap beside Virgil, taking his hand.

Virgil gave him a dry smile.

“That you haven’t been able to get me to sleep,” he said wryly, “I’m not being stubborn on purpose,”

Logan flushed.

“I hadn’t realized that you… were aware of my attempts,”

“Subtlety isn’t exactly one of your strong suits,” said Virgil affectionately.

Logan smiled back.

“So, yeah,” said Virgil, “I’m sorry,”

“You do _not_ have to apologize,” said Logan, “How could I fault you for your anxiety? It is founded in a traumatic experience; I would never hold it against you,”

Virgil’s face softened even further, and Logan impulsively leaned forward to kiss him. Smiling into it, Virgil began to pull gently on Logan’s arms.

“Get down here,” he said fondly, “I want to hold you,”

Logan sputtered slightly, but he didn’t protest as he maneuvered onto the couch. Draping across Virgil’s chest, he laid his temple against Virgil’s collarbone and began tracing nonsense patterns in his shirt.

“Thank you,” said Virgil, “For trying. I appreciate it,”

Logan’s first instinct was to point out that he had failed entirely and apologize for it, but he got the feeling that it would only result in an argument on Virgil’s part.

“You are welcome,” he said instead.

They cuddled in silence for several minutes. Logan’s own eyes began to droop.

“There are a few more things on the list,” he said quietly, “You don’t have to, of course, but we could try them if you like,”

Silence. Logan’s brow furrowed.

“Virgil?” he prompted, tilting his head back to look up.

Virgil’s eyes were closed, his face smoother and more relaxed than Logan had seen in nearly a month. Lips slightly parted, he let out soft, even breaths that just barely whistled as his chest rose and fell.

For just a moment, Logan was so overwhelmed with relief that his throat closed and he was nearly positive he was going to cry. He managed to stave it off with several shaking deep breaths, and let his head drop back onto his husband’s chest, listening to the slow, steady beat of his heart.

Well – Logan was apparently going to be here a while.

But It was not as if he would prefer to be anywhere else.

**Author's Note:**

> you can also find me [over on tumblr!](tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors.tumblr.com)


End file.
